


Reticent

by prototyping



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Prompt Fill, post-kh3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: She's so used to adults demanding things of her, with zero regard for her own wishes or comfort, that the drastic change is like a breath of fresh air. He's giving her time to think, to choose for herself whether she wants to be open with him or not. She decides that she does.Terra + Naminé, post-KH3.





	Reticent

She isn’t at all surprised when he finds her.

Even out here, alone on a remote grassy hill in Twilight Town and having told nobody where she’s gone, Naminé doesn’t so much as bat an eye at Terra’s appearance. She doesn’t even raise her head, but keeps on sketching in her pad as she waits for him to speak first; she knows he puts a lot of thought into his words and actions and she doesn’t want to push him one way or the other. She waits.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks after a moment. His tone is gentle, considerate. Manners drive the question but it’s clear he’ll respect whatever answer she gives.

In a heartbeat she turns a pleasant smile towards him. “Please.” She watches as he sits beside her on the soft ground, at the edge of arm’s reach, mimicking her drawn-knees position. If anything, she’s a little surprised by how close he chooses to sit, but then quickly figures she shouldn’t be. The nature of his long struggle aside, he’s still a protector, first and foremost. He looks after people and she’s no exception. ( _She knows, she felt the pang in his heart the first time he looked at her, every time he looks at Roxas -- she knows whom he sees and how it stings for him to think there are people, wielders, he wasn’t there to help--_ )

For another silent pause Terra only looks out over the view of the town, the tracks, the ocean beyond. Naminé turns back to her drawing, but her pencil is still.

“How is it?” she inquires. She already knows the answer, but she wants to hear it from him. She wants to give him room to speak his thoughts, good or bad or whatever else.

“Better.” Setting an arm across his knees, he loosely clenches and unclenches his fist. “I don’t hear it as much.”

Her smile widens, genuinely happy. “That’s good,” she reassures him. “If you didn’t hear it at all, that would mean you’re pushing it down too hard. It takes time. You’ll get there.”

“Right.” It’s a neutral response, and then he looks at her. “I didn’t come here to talk about me, though.” That catches Naminé off guard in full. Her curiosity shows in the tilt of her head. “I want to say thanks -- I want to _properly_ say thanks,” he corrects.

Her smile returns. “You don’t have to. I was glad to help -- and you did all of the work,” she reminds him. “I only pointed you in the right direction when you needed it.”

“And I did need it. Badly,” he says seriously. “But you did more than that. When I didn’t hear you… I still felt you, most of the time. You were watching me the whole way, weren’t you?”

Naminé sets her hands against her paper, turning her pencil absently between her fingers. “Most of the way, yes. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you,” she adds in earnest. “I knew you could make it on your own, as long as you had your friends driving you.” The one she didn’t trust was Xehanort. It ended up being a baseless concern, fortunately; like Riku, Terra’s immunity to darkness made him worthless as a vessel and Xehanort didn’t seem to even entertain the idea of seizing him a second time. Regardless, Naminé kept an eye on him, which ended up working out, anyway -- because, also like Riku, Terra’s history isn’t without its lingering scars. Still, she hopes her intrusion doesn’t come off as a lack of faith.

“No,” says Terra, “I’m glad you did. Aqua and Ven… they gave me the strength to keep going. And having you there, even in the background… it helped me see _where_ I was going. It made it that much harder to go astray.”

Naminé looks at him. His face is calm, collected, as he again observes the yellow-orange horizon, but she doesn’t have to touch his memory to sense the weight behind it. She knows he’s strong -- she knows he won’t give in to the echoes in his heart, the temptations of a hollow voice he’ll carry for the rest of his life -- but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It doesn’t mean he won’t have moments of weakness and frustration now and again.

To hear from him, then, that she made his rocky path even a _little_ easier… It leaves a bubbly sort of satisfaction in her chest.

“So… thanks, Naminé. For everything.” Terra smiles, shaking off that weight for now, and the expression fits him very well. He’s somebody who likes to smile, who _does_ smile a lot, Naminé can tell, or at least used to. She hopes he does more of it now.

She can also see that it’s no use resisting his gratitude, so she offers a gentle laugh in response. “You’re very welcome, Terra.”

She’s glad when he makes no move to leave right away. Returning to her drawing, she figures he’s said his piece and won’t say much more -- so he surprises her a second time a few minutes later. “Can I ask you something? If it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer.”

She can’t think of anything she would be uncomfortable with discussing, so she cheerfully nods without looking up. “Sure.”

“Does anybody know about your Keyblade?”

The silence that follows is broken only by the _snap_ of her pencil lead breaking. For several long seconds Naminé doesn’t even move, her eyes fixed on where she pressed too hard into her paper. When those seconds stretch into half a minute, she realizes she needs to speak. “I…” She frowns. “No.”

“Can I ask why?”

Again she nods, slower and lighter this time, but it precedes another pause. The gentle patience in Terra’s tone is encouraging, at least. She’s so used to adults demanding things of her, with zero regard for her own wishes or comfort, that the drastic change is like a breath of fresh air. He’s giving her time to think, to choose for herself whether she wants to be open with him or not.

She decides that she does.

“I don’t… really think it matters,” she says finally. She bypasses the question of how Terra knows. If anybody would pick up on such a thing, it would be somebody of his caliber, surely. Perhaps Aqua and Ventus did as well. “Even if I am a wielder now, I don’t think I could be of any help that way.”

“You don’t like fighting?” he suggests. Naminé hesitates.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to -- I’ve never tried. The idea of fighting doesn’t bother me,” she admits. “I know it’s necessary, sometimes. But… I’ve had my role for a while now. And I’m happy with it. I think… that I started to believe that ignoring the Keyblade would mean nothing has to change. If I forgot about it, I could keep doing what I’ve been doing. And not bother anybody with it.”

Terra frowns. “Why would it be a bother?”

Naminé smiles, a sad and sheepish expression. “You and the others… you’re already so good at it. The biggest threats are over, and you all deserve to rest now. Teaching somebody like me… it wouldn’t be easy, and it’s not necessary.” She shrugs, turning her smile to him as it brightens again. “It’s all right, though. Really -- I’m happy as I am.” She’s already living her second chance, besides. Sora could have chosen not to trust her after the events in Castle Oblivion. Riku could have abandoned her, DiZ could have disposed of her, Kairi could have rejected her, Roxas could have hated her. But they didn’t, and through stroke after stroke of luck Naminé found some way to help somebody for some purpose. Asking for another such chance… She can’t help but think it would be selfish of her, as though she doesn’t appreciate what she has.

Terra holds her gaze with a searching look, and then finally lets it go with a low, thoughtful sound. “...You know,” he says after another quiet moment, “it’s fine if you’re not a fighter. Not everybody is. But the Keyblade never chooses anybody by accident, either. Wielders do more than kill things -- they also keep watch and guide others. And that sounds a lot like what you do already.” He smiles at her again, but Naminé can only blink in response. “Not to mention, there’s more to learn than just fighting techniques,” he adds. “What about healing magic? Is that something you might be interested in?”

Healing magic… Naminé already has magic of her own -- it all falls within the same general category of memory manipulation, but it’s magic nonetheless. “Maybe,” she says slowly, uncertainly. “But I wouldn’t want to waste anybody’s time…”

“It wouldn’t be a waste. Besides,” he says cheerfully, “I have a lot of time to spare now.”

Naminé lifts her eyes again, openly surprised.

“If you’re interested, I could teach you,” Terra offers. “Only as much as you’re comfortable with -- and if you decide you don’t like it, we don’t have to keep going.” He looks away then, towards the skyline again. Maybe it’s intentional, maybe it isn’t, but it takes some of the pressure off the question. “Either way... if you really don’t want anybody else to know, they don’t have to.”

This pause is the longest one yet. Naminé trusts him; if he says she can learn healing magic without the obligation of anything more than that, she knows he won’t push her. And if he insists she’s no burden on him, then he means it.

She doesn’t hesitate out of doubt. She’s wondering if she can really do half as well -- or be half as helpful -- as Terra seems to think she can.

He’s the first to break the silence by rising to his feet. “You don’t have to answer now,” he tells her. “Just think about it. You know where to find me.” When he gives her one last smile, Naminé does the same, nodding.

“I will. Thank you, Terra.” She watches him go, back the way he came by. Right when he’s about to disappear below the hill, she sets her sketchpad aside and stands. “Terra!” When he turns back, Naminé looks down at her hands for a moment before shaking off the shy feeling. “If you have time… could you please tell me something, before you go?”

Mildly surprised, Terra nods and makes his way back to her. Again Naminé feels sheepish, and again she pushes it aside. She’s going to have to get used to it. Breathing in deeply, she turns aside and holds out both hands -- and with a simple, too-easy thought, there’s a flash of light and the sudden weight of warm steel between her fingers. It’s not _too_ heavy, but it’s still new enough that her arms quickly buckle. In a blink Terra catches her thin wrists in one hand, helping to keep her Keyblade upright.

She gives him a pointed and apologetic look. “How to hold it,” she clarifies. That much, at least, she figures she should know.

Terra looks like he’s holding back some amused sound or remark, but then only nods again. “Sure thing.”


End file.
